Blind man in the zone: Blind, #9

By Andrei Voronin

In the new action film by Andrei Voronin, the FSB again faces a problem that only Gleb Siverov, nicknamed Blind, can solve. The blind man enters into a deadly battle with criminals, and there seems to be no way out...

• Language: English
• Publisher: EDGARS-LTD GROUP
• Release date: Jul 1, 2024
• ISBN: 9798227248848

Book preview

Chapter 1

A man in a strict business suit, a snow-white shirt, and an expensive tie slowly walked along the alley of the park. Small pebbles crunched under the thin soles of his shoes. Just by the way he walked, it was clear: he was unaccustomed to walking. People of his plan ride in limousines, contemplating Washington through thick armored glass. He looked about fifty years old, unless his rich life allowed him to maintain his flourishing appearance in old age - a short, neat haircut, a clearly defined beard beginning to turn grey.

It was about ten o'clock in the evening. The park became deserted; in the falling twilight the benches gleamed white and the stainless steel trash bins gleamed. The city, towering above the old trees, lit up with thousands of lights.

A late visitor to the park approached the pond. Right from his feet, from the very stone embankment, the shadow of a fish darted into the dark depths of the water. He pushed the cuff away with two fingers and looked at his watch. Then he adjusted the gold cufflink with the dimly shimmering diamond. He sat down on a bench, slightly damp from the evening dew, and, randomly unfolding a thick newspaper, began to read the first article he came across.

It just so happened that on the front page of The Washington Post there was an image of the Capitol, taken almost from the very place where the man was now sitting. And if he had taken his eyes off the newspaper lines, he would have seen the white dome of a pompous empire-style building on Capitol Hill, illuminated by spotlights. He wasn't nervous, he wasn't worried, he was just waiting. For people like him, once they have made an appointment, it will never even occur to them that the right person will not appear at the right time. Their every word is an order, even every minute of their silence is thousands of dollars. Eyebrows raised in surprise or knitted in dissatisfaction can mean the loss of millions for the interlocutor.

Having scanned the article to the author's last name, the owner of a graying beard looked into the gloom of the alley. And just in time.

Walking with sweeping steps, a dashing man of about thirty approached him, with a colorless smile forever stuck to his face. Short-haired, clean-shaven, with a slightly fussy, but nevertheless cheerful look. It seemed to the person waiting on the bench that the newcomer was glad to see him, although in general the relationship between them was measured only by money, but you can also be happy just meeting a compatriot you know if you haven’t come to your homeland for a long time.

– Don’t look at your watch, I’m never late.

- I’m looking - what if you came earlier...

– This doesn’t happen either.

Sit down, the owner of the gold cufflinks with diamonds suggested, as if the conversation was taking place in his office, and not in a park owned by the city authorities, and, carefully folding the newspaper, he sent it to the trash can.

- I won’t refuse. It is unlikely that you will understand the meaning of one Russian proverb, but they say: There is no truth in your feet.

– Does it make sense?

"I already feel it, although I find it difficult to explain.

Even here, in a deserted park, where no one could overhear them, they avoided calling each other by name.

– I think I gave you a good gift by calling you to America.

- Yes, thank you. Flying at your own expense from Moscow to Washington is quite expensive. It's much better if it's paid for by you.

– Just like everything else in your life. Yes, I value both my time and yours, which is why I pay a lot for it.

Of course, our conversation is worth a lot if it means we had to cross the Atlantic.

Cross twice: there and back, reminded the owner of a graying beard and placed on his lap a shiny metal case-atgache, light, durable and very flat, exclusively for papers. And he added, looking into the face of his interlocutor:

– You have changed a lot over the two years that you had to work in Moscow.

I wouldn’t mind working there again.

- Let's see.

Unfortunately, I have nothing to please you with, the American, who had flown in from Moscow, spread his arms to the sides in purely Moscow fashion. – The Russians will most likely win some of the contracts for the construction of nuclear power plants in third world countries.

I can find out such news from newspapers, the elderly man nodded towards the ballot box, yesterday’s, and they don’t even cost a dime.

– You understand, with my official position as a humble clerk in a semi-mythical trade mission, I could hardly have any influence on the outcome of the negotiations.

I see that you not only managed to convince others of your supposedly modest capabilities, but also believed in it yourself, but in vain, I am ready to offer you a case that will make the whole world tremble.

The young interlocutor laughed somewhat obsequiously.

I guess it was in order to rectify the situation that you called me from Moscow?

– Yes, the Russians win contracts to build nuclear power plants in third world countries. And this, as you understand, is billions of dollars that could become mine. Our government gives practically irrevocable loans to Moscow, and it would be fair for them to return to our country as orders rather than remain in Russia.

– What can you do, today Moscow can actually intercept twenty to thirty percent of orders for equipment for stations.

They shouldn’t have that either, a thin crease appeared on the speaker’s forehead, his graying eyebrows came together to the bridge of his nose, and an evil smile appeared on his lips.

– I am not against Russia taking part in nuclear projects, but not by building nuclear power plants. I will sell the stations, and they, with their uninhabited spaces and exorbitant ambitions, should turn into a large burial ground for our radioactive waste. Everyone must do their job. International division of labor, I think that’s what it’s called.

The idea is absolutely correct, the interlocutor agreed, but the problem is that their stations are much cheaper than ours. And I'm afraid that their thirty percent may soon turn into forty.

The evil smile became a little wider:

– But their stations are much less reliable.

– Unfortunately, not so much that it would decide the outcome of the negotiations. And to be honest, you know without me that their reactors are quite reliable. Chernobyl greatly undermined their position in the market, but they are gradually forgetting about it; it is unlikely that in the near future we will be very lucky and have another accident on their territory.

I’m not mistaken about you, your train of thought is absolutely correct... Buyers have a short memory, he unfastened the locks on the metal attaché case, but was in no hurry to lift the lid. "They quickly forgot about Chernobyl. By the way, that accident allowed us to conclude over twenty contracts that the Russians had previously counted on.

"Ten years have passed, the fear has passed, and now, finally, the main criterion is once again the cheapness of equipment.

- Cheap! Cheap! – the elderly man said mockingly. But no one will buy their own death even cheaply.

The interlocutor’s eyes lit up with the fire of excitement.

I think I’m beginning to understand what you’re about to offer me.

I won’t offer, I will order, the man grinned, looking at his distorted reflection in the polished lid of the case, If a major accident occurs at one of the stations built according to the Russian design, no one else will want to buy them. One accident, in Chernobyl, may still seem random, but two major accidents - catastrophes - are already a trend. And they will have only two opportunities to participate in nuclear projects - to mine uranium and bury our waste on their territory.

Both you and I are specialists, the interlocutor objected carefully, already anticipating the answer, and you know very well that it is unrealistic to wait for an accident to happen on its own. Ten, twenty, thirty years will pass... It may not happen at all.

No, it will happen, an ominous voice sounded in the thickening twilight.

- Are you sure?

There was silence for some time, broken only by the noise of the big city.

You are the one who is organizing this accident, the pause was finally broken.

- I?

- Exactly you.

- But this is...

– This is a business, and only... Billions of dollars, of which several million will be yours.

– I can’t imagine how this can be arranged.

– The main thing for me is to know: are you against my idea or are you ready to participate in its implementation?

This time there was not even a short pause.

- Agree.

And only after this word, as if after a password, the cover of the attaché case rose. The elderly man looked around. There was no one around, only a few people from his own guard were somewhere in the depths of the park, but even they could not hear a sound from the quiet conversation.

– I know the situation in Russia, Ukraine, and Belarus very well. There you can now buy any state secret, any technological development, any top-secret finished product.

The interlocutor nodded:

– If you have money, you can buy everything, including power, and much cheaper than with us.

And again the impassive, slightly hoarse voice, brooking no objections, sounded:

– But our merger of companies is under no circumstances; conditions, you can’t risk your reputation. Our hands must remain clean. Causing accidents from the inside by bribing one of the staff is too risky, information leakage is very likely. And the effect is small - you can’t buy a suicide. But I need a global catastrophe that will be remembered for at least ten years. The accident should happen only outside - a local nuclear explosion carried out under the walls of the station. And then, no matter how many excuses the designers and the government make, no one will be able to prove to ordinary people whether the station itself exploded or whether a nuclear charge exploded. The more the Kremlin government tells the truth, the less people believe it.

The young man listened without interrupting, just wrinkled his forehead. So far the idea seemed difficult to implement, almost unrealistic. But then maps and diagrams appeared in the hands of his interlocutor.

– Have you ever heard of nuclear landmines?

- A terrible weapon. It seems that during the Soviet Union, in every major city there were mines where nuclear charges were installed. And in the event of the city being occupied by the enemy, they had to be activated by remote control.

- Exactly. Now all the nuclear land mines - and most of them were in Belarus and Ukraine - belong to Russia, but have not yet been removed from there.

Seventy percent of them are located at one of the military bases near Chernobyl," a finger with a polished nail pointed to a point on the map. – Due to the fact that NATO did not have nuclear landmines in its arsenal, they were not included in the nuclear arms reduction treaty. Agree, it’s quite paradoxical: atomic weapons that were supposed to be used exclusively on our own territory. But that's not the point. Due to the current confusion over the safety of landmines, control is minimal. I managed to obtain from our special services secret files on Russian army officers who now have access to them - on the lid of the case was a photograph of a man in the uniform of a Soviet colonel. – Of all the suitable candidates, I selected this one - Colonel of the Russian Army Viktor Ivanovich Sazonov. He has real opportunities to organize the theft of a nuclear mine.

– Opportunities are not enough.

I told you I chose one out of many. In addition to opportunities, he also has a penchant for this kind of thing. He is greedy, loves to have fun, he is soon to be discharged from the army, and he is probably thinking about the financial side of his future life.

– Should I find an approach to him?

- This is not entirely true. He should not encounter you, should not know about your existence.

I got it, the young man grinned. I know who can process it, and in such a way that our colonel will remain confident that the idea to steal a landmine belongs to him.

Are you going to put the woman you tried in bed with him in bed?

- Exactly. The main thing is to attach a pump to the colonel, pumping money out of him, and then he will think about where he can get it at once, and most importantly, a lot.

– I hope you are not mistaken. The woman - I suspect who exactly we are talking about - should indirectly lead him to a straw buyer, with whom you will first agree, but again not personally. In any situation, even in the event of failure, you must remain on the sidelines, the second photograph lay on the lid of the case, This is the ideal dummy customer." He works at the Iraqi trade mission in Moscow. His name is Ishmael. He has been warned that you will contact him. There will be one more participant in the deal, which we cannot do without: he will act as a mediator. Only Sazonov will have to know about its existence. Your woman will lead the colonel to him.

– Isn’t it too difficult?

– I want to play it safe a little. Others – locals – should take part in the kidnapping and run with the money. It’s your job to control how the operation goes. In case of failure, I prefer to be as far as possible from the center of events, this is in your interests. But we risk little. The Russians think that if someone decides to steal a nuclear weapon, then certainly in order to take it out of the country, or, as a last resort, in order to transport it to Chechnya, but we use a nuclear mine in accordance with its purpose, so, as its creators intended - on their own territory. Here is another photo for you - this man will have to become a mediator between Izmail and Sazonov. The young man took the photo and grimaced a little disgustedly:

- Gloomy guy!..

– This is a criminal authority nicknamed Lemonchik.

– What if he doesn’t agree to ensure the theft of the landmine?

This can’t happen, the owner of the attaché case laughed dryly. – Russian mafioso Korean, who was arrested by the FBI, testified against him. Along this chain - Lemonchik - Korean - black money left Russia and was invested in our economy by people from big politics. And if you hint to Limonchik that if he refuses, information from the FBI will go to Russia, he will crawl on his knees so that his high patrons do not become aware of the Korean’s testimony.

- Naturally, it will be removed after an explosion occurs at one of the nuclear stations?

- I think by this time his own people will remove him, I have a channel to hint. But it is difficult for a person to believe in his mortality, and he will try to save his skin until the very last moment.

I’m afraid that he will be removed before we complete the operation. Channels for hints exist not only here.

– There is a backup option for this, although I like Lemonchik more as an intermediary-executor. Here, keep a photo of a possible understudy. His last name is Arkady Gennadievich Shankurov. He is a banker, the owner of a pharmaceutical production facility, which also produces drugs along the way. I think he will agree to take part in the action even without blackmail, as soon as he smells the smell of big money. Although, I repeat, he is a backup option in case Lemon leaves the game.

The young man was thoughtfully rubbing his clean-shaven cheek.

– I think everything should work out. Moreover, the risk is minimal. Neither Colonel Sazonov, who has access to land mines, nor the intermediary, be it Limonchik or banker Shankurov, will know about the real purpose of the kidnapping. They will be sure that Saddam Hussein needed the landmine. And even if we fail, the Russian special services will not be able to find us.

– As you can see, I was also concerned about your safety, because my own depends on it.

– Which station should explode?

- I don't care. Any of the stations built according to the Russian project. I'm not bloodthirsty. You can choose at your discretion, even in the most remote place from major cities. Several hundred personnel are dust compared to billions of dollars and jobs for our citizens.

I suppose we need to hurry with this?

- Without a doubt. The operation should be completed before the presidential elections in Russia, while there is complete confusion there.

But I will take upon myself the explosion itself.

I had no doubt that you would decide so, but I didn’t want to push you. How are you going to implement it?

– It’s a little strange, but I already had to think about him, just out of curiosity. In my projects I assumed the use of an ordinary aerial bomb. Imagine: it’s night, a bomb is transported to a distance of about thirty kilometers, a helicopter hooks it onto a cable and, flying over the station, drops the load onto the roof of the power unit. A man with a neat graying beard put the photographs in a case. I also packed cards with diagrams there. Then he took out a CD, on the box of which it was stated that the disc contained an English-Spanish dictionary prepared by the Mugozoy company.

– This disk contains everything you need: photographs, addresses, telephone numbers, maps, diagrams, company coordinates, bank accounts from which you can receive money. The code is the same. Tomorrow evening go to Moscow and study Sazonov and Limonchik. But come to our center in the morning and get detailed recommendations from the instructors.

– It would be a good idea to prepare the public for a possible disaster: what you expect always seems much worse.

– I’m already doing this, financing several environmental film festivals.

We were promised to make a film for the tenth anniversary of the Chernobyl disaster, something about the monsters that live in the zone, about genetic mutations... It seems that the director’s last name is Hvorostetsky. I will make sure that the largest television companies have the money to buy and show the film at prime time.

Dusk had already finally thickened in the alleys of the park, and the lawn watering system started working. The park was filled with the murmur of water, and a small calm pond lay like a mirror forgotten by someone in the grass, reflecting the sky illuminated by the big city, and therefore starless.

Not only the first people of the atomic lobby of the United States of America showed their interest in the authority of the Moscow criminal world Limonchik. The Russian FSB was also interested in him, although this interest was caused by a slightly different reason, which had nothing to do with nuclear energy...

A secret FSB officer who did not work with the special service constantly, but only carried out individual, but very important tasks, ones that could not be entrusted to others, Gleb Siverov was waiting for a meeting with Colonel Krapivin at the appointed place.

They’re always in a hurry, there’s a fire, there’s something urgent! - Gleb was angry. By contacting them, you will never make plans, not just for a week in advance, but even for an hour."

A car pulled up. Siverov immediately realized that in it he would have to not only conduct a conversation with Krapivin, but also go on reconnaissance. Otherwise, Krapivin would never have allowed himself to come driving an old model Lada.

He usually used a black service Volga with a driver. Siverov found it funny to look at the colonel dressed in jeans and a sweater. Surely he didn’t want anyone to suspect him of being a FSB agent.

Gleb slowly crossed the street, sat down in the front seat next to Krapivin and shook his hand.

Raise the glass, the colonel asked.

– Is it such a serious conversation?

- Yes. And we will lead him along the road.

– You always imagine listening devices, spies. Maybe you still think that someone is now aiming at your precious head?

Krapivin smiled vaguely:

– You know, it’s a nervous time right now.

– Of course, as always during election periods. But you're not a presidential candidate, are you?

– It’s still not enough, I’m not as stupid as you think.

The car moved slowly. Krapivin drove a couple of blocks, turning first into one street, then into another, until he returned to the wide avenue again. He checked to see if they were being followed.

– Are you free now, Gleb?

I told you, I’m going to rest.

- Where are you going?

- In Paris.

- Together with Irina?

- Naturally, Colonel. I travel alone only on business.

I hate to tell you, Gleb, but they won’t let you through at the border.

Siverov shrugged. He is already accustomed to this style of work of the FSB. Thank you for your frankness, Krapivin.

– These are not my efforts, but those of General Sudakov.

– Do you need to do urgent work that none of your employees dared to take on?

– Yes, Gleb, and the matter is very serious.

- Spit it out.

- Do you know such a person - Lemon?

– In general, I’ve heard a little about him, I’ve seen him ten times. The most common scoundrel, of which there are more and more in Russia every day.

It needs to be removed, Krapivin said, continuing to look at the road.

- Or maybe it’s better to arrest? – Gleb decided to mock him a little.

I’ll explain everything to you now and you’ll understand. Gleb, you know as well as I do that in the government, around the President, in the Duma, there are not only angels with wings.

- Like everywhere else. As everywhere else, Krapivin.

– Are you hinting at the FSB?

– The fish rots from the head, and your organization can hardly be called the tail.

– Lemonchik is involved in major scams. Through Korean, who is now arrested in America, he transported money from shadow businesses, criminal common funds and bribes received by officials to the States. What do you think, Gleb, will the Korean remain silent and protect Lemon?

I think he’ll be silent for a month, but if they press him, he’ll give up everyone.

- You think correctly. He was arrested two weeks ago.

– And Lemonchik, of course, is free?

- He is in Moscow. He cannot be left alive, Gleb, understand. If now, before the elections, information about corruption on such a scale comes out... - the colonel shook his head.

– Krapivin, I am not a fire brigade commander, not a Salvation Army fighter, and I’m not going to risk my life so that a few scoundrels remain in high positions.

- Gleb, but you understand what this threatens?

- To whom?

Democracy, said the FSB colonel with a stupid smile.

- Understand. But I didn’t start this mess, and it’s not up to me to sort it out.

– Siverov, if you think that you are saving officials, then you are mistaken. I promise you - after the elections they will all be removed from power, some will end up in prison. But not now.

– Why doesn’t General Sudakov want to use his apparatus? – Gleb was curious. Krapivin sighed heavily and moved into another row, closer to the sidewalk.

"Our people from senior management are also involved in this. As soon as the Directorate mentions Limonchik, neither Sudakov nor I will lose our heads.

Yes, now I understand you, Siverov finally came to terms with the idea that he would have to postpone his trip to Paris and get to work.

"Our situation is hopeless, Gleb, and we cannot do otherwise.

This should be done by a person from the outside - so that everything looks like there was a gang fight. Do you agree? Gleb was silent.

If you didn’t say no, that means you accepted my offer.

Krapivin drove the car into the parking lot and pulled out a plan of a residential building.

– Now I’ll show you where Lemon lives. This is a ten-story building on Mira Avenue," Krapivin explained while Gleb studied the plan. – His apartment is in the third entrance on the sixth floor.

Gleb professionally figured out the location of the rooms where the windows face.

It was possible to use a couple of points on the roofs of neighboring houses. But, already knowing in advance what they would answer him. Siverov asked:

– The glass in his apartment is, of course, triplex – bulletproof?

- Yes. In addition, they are always closed with blinds and curtains. The doors are armored, security is constantly on duty.

– Krapivin, did you come for me in a Zhiguli because you wanted to take me to this house?

- Yes, today Limonchik left for Golitsyn and will return in about an hour. Our employee reported this to me. Let's go..

Krapivin parked the inconspicuous Lada car in the yard. Then Siverov and the colonel, taking out the jack, raised the car, opened the hood, and laid out the keys. It looked like they were repairing a car. The windows of the apartment belonging to Limonchik stood out from many other windows with their dark mirrored bulletproof glass. Three windows on the sixth floor, two more overlooked the other side of the house. Gleb quickly assessed the situation. It was impossible to simply enter any of the entrances; a doorman was on duty at each, probably lured by the residents, including Limonchik.

He has security in his apartment around the clock, said Krapivin, pretending to be engrossed in the wheel, so it’s impossible to get into the apartment and hide. The doorman informs security about everyone who comes to the entrance. He is also from their team. Everyone seems to be on their way!

Siverov squatted and, holding the hose in his fingers, dirty from fuel oil, carefully blew it out. A gray Cadillac drove into the yard, accompanied by two jeeps with guards.

He always drives like this, Krapivin whispered. - here look.

No one has gotten out of the Cadillac yet. But three guards got out of the jeep: strongly built guys with shaved heads - holsters with weapons puffed up under their jackets.

– One of them will take the elevator, and the other two will go up on foot, checking the entrance. Only after making sure that the path is clear will they contact Limonchik from the apartment.

He risks being shot in the yard, Siverov responded, almost without opening his lips.

- Don't talk gop...

– I understand, the car is armored.

A couple of minutes passed, during which the guards from the second jeep checked the yard. Then, tightly surrounding the door of the Cadillac, they let Lemon himself out of the car.

"You see, they are moving so fast, so much higher than their owner, that if you sit on the roof of a neighboring house, you will never have time to hit him while they are running towards the entrance.

Yes, said Gleb, the matter is quite complicated, but not hopeless.

Realizing that they couldn’t leave right now, otherwise the authority’s security would take note of them, they fiddled around for another forty minutes. During this time, Gleb noted a lot for himself. Already sitting in the car, he asked Krapivin:

I see repairs are underway on the roof, he pointed to a smoking bitumen cooker standing on the roof of the house.

– Yes, the repairs will last another two weeks.

– This is not your props?

- No. Repairs are carried out by the housing maintenance service.

- Great! Which entrance leads to the roof?

- You can get there from anyone.

- Through the hatch? Through an add-on?

– Through the technical floor and elevator shaft superstructures.

Gleb unfolded the plan on his knees and laughed with satisfaction:

I think I’ve found how to get it.

-Are you kidding me, Gleb?

- How would you act, Krapivin, if you were on the roof?

– I would go down to his window along a cable, attach a shaped charge to the glass...

– ...and after the explosion I would have found out that the client was in a room on the other side of the house.

– This is the first thing that came to my mind, Gleb.

The only thing that is required of you, Krapivin, is to warn me approximately within half an hour when he returns home tomorrow evening. Is there at least external surveillance of him?

– If I’m not mistaken, Gleb, he will arrive exactly the same as today, somewhere around eleven or twelve in the evening.

- Edem!

Chapter 2

All morning the next day, Siverov worked in his attic workshop.

He didn’t have to come up with anything particularly new. Once he was about to use one trick, but at the last moment the FSB decided to abandon the operation. From that time, Gleb kept some equipment.

He took out from his hiding place an oblong box with buttons, similar to a TV remote control. But what distinguished it from a regular remote control was that a bundle of multi-colored wires came out of it, each of which ended in an insulated clip equipped with a needle. If you squeeze the wire with such a crocodile clamp, the needle will pierce the insulation and connect to the line. Gleb didn’t rack his brains when choosing a weapon. He chose the most compact: a short Uzi machine gun with a long horn and a pistol with a silencer...

Lunch time was approaching. Siverov did not reach the house in which Limonchik lived, half a block, and turned into the courtyard. He rolled his Volvo up a small hillock and stopped, putting the handbrake on the car. Gleb was satisfied with the position: the overgrown trees converged at the top with branches - and from above, from the roof, it would be impossible to see what was happening below, which means it was impossible to shoot accurately. Siverov lowered the back of the front seat - so that it would be more convenient to change clothes, put on a padded jacket stained with whitewash, put on his head a canvas helmet with laces, which is usually used by welders, and secured huge welding goggles - canned food - on his forehead. He opened the ashtray and, rubbing a couple of cigarette butts between his fingers, smeared it on his face and hands. He secured the machine gun and pistol on the inside of his quilted jacket with special carabiners, which did not need to be unfastened to remove the weapon, just pull sharply. He took a burst cardboard pack of electrodes and a thin metal cable rolled into a coil and got out of the car.

On the roof of the house where Limonchik lived, a bitumen cooker was smoking with all its might. There was a console with a block at the end of the house; rolls of roofing material and packages of bitumen were raised and lowered along it. At about one o'clock all movement on the roof stopped, the workers left the entrance, going to lunch.

Gleb waited about fifteen minutes, making sure that no one would return, then went into the same entrance from which they had come out - Limonchik’s entrance. There was not the slightest risk that someone would remember Gleb’s face - a padded jacket and a canvas helmet - that’s what will remain in the memory of the doorman and the security guard, who were sitting in the corner of the hall on the first floor and watching TV. The calculation was justified. They didn’t stop him, didn’t ask him anything, everything was clear: the welder was going up to the roof of the house where repairs were underway. Under the guard's distracted gaze, Gleb pressed the elevator call button. One of the two booths immediately opened, and he ascended to the tenth floor. After that, he walked up to the last, technical one, where the power drive of the elevators was located, and went out onto the roof. The bitumen cooker was smoking and gurgling, and the tool was lying there.

Gleb figured out where he could hide until the end of the working day. Half of the roof had already been covered with new roofing felt, and Siverov reasoned that on that already finished side of the house, breathing fumes from hot oil tar, no one would need anything today, especially since to get there they would have to walk through a freshly poured area. But no one will do this; who wants to stick to fresh bitumen?

Siverov walked about twenty meters along the side. Za jumped onto the already cooled section of the surface. He settled down behind a wide ventilation pipe and took out a walkie-talkie.

I contacted Krapivin.

– Where is the object? – he asked the colonel.

– Still